


I'm Here

by Fana



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 04:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17440340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fana/pseuds/Fana
Summary: He longed to see that eye-crinkling smile of yours that had kept his heart beating for you.Only you and nobody else.





	I'm Here

**Author's Note:**

> Just a venting fic

You threw your bag on the floor and flopped down on your bed, uniform and all, as you closed your eyes, trying to block out all the shitty things you did today.

You were sleepy..

  


_Murmuring of voices started as you arrived at the room_

  


so, so, so sleepy..

  


_They stared at you, your mind going into overdrive of what might possibly be turning the gears on their heads and the sharp smirks on their faces._

  


..tired..

 

_'Weirdo'_

 

..numb..

  


_Derisive laughter came from your side, your head still ducked down in shame, only covered up by the fact that you were doing a seatwork._

  


..angry..

  


_Fake smiles, fake laughter, fake friendships_

  


..anxious..

  


_Your subject teacher was already there, standing and mouth moving as you could only guess the words that were spilling out from his mouth._

_The teacher said something but you didn't quite hear it. After all, you were still reeling in from crossing almost half of the goddamn university's campus to a 4-flight stairs running marathon._

  


..stupid..

  


_Panicking, you said what was on your mind._

_'Traffic.'_

_He still looked at you. Clearing your throat, you said it again._

_He went to his desk, and was asking the student closest to him about something. You were glad he didn't asked questions._

_'Psst.' Your seatmate, a fellow shy person but (unlike you) is one that's comfortable in his own skin, got your attention after you sat down._

_'He was asking for your last name.'_

_If it was somebody else, they'd just shrug it off and continue with their own life, not caring about such a trivial mistake_

_But you weren't that somebody, and so you internally digested those words and you felt your world getting sucked into a black hole, crushed into smithereens and never to be seen again._

  


Smashing your head against the pillow, you squeezed your eyes so hard you could see phosphenes. You just felt so, so, so lonely and stressed and you want to prove yourself so, so, so bad but whenever you try to make an effort, shit happens and you're left with a mounting load of failed experiences and trust issues in your psyche.

You want to cry. To try to let go of these toxic feelings and thoughts out of your system. You want to feel refreshed. You want to fucking sob and pour your heart out and let it bleed on the floor from all the scars it sustained and endured all over the years.. you want to _let go._

But you can't. 

The tears won't come and you can't sleep, so you just rolled over and stared at the white wall of your room. You can't vent out all the shit in your head for fear of being called paranoid, stupid, dramatic, overacting, weird, and weak. 

So you're lying here, zoning out with sensitive eyes, a numb feeling settling throughout your being, and a tired jaw from all the clenching and unclenching it did awhile ago. You were so busy reliving those dreadful things inside your head, that you failed to hear the light click of the door and the careful footfalls crossing the room.

He sat at the edge of your bed, sweeping his eyes over your crumpling curled up form, hoping to just kill all of your demons for you just so you can talk to him again with those captivating eyes that seem to shimmer only for when you see him and your loved ones. 

He longed to see that eye-crinkling smile of yours that had kept his heart beating for you.

_Only you and nobody else._

He cant give you advice because what you're feeling now isn't something that's gonna be easy to put into words. He knows that well because he has gone through it, of course.

Sometimes, emotions are best left unexplained and unarticulated.

He knows that you need to feel all of them first before you move on. You needed to learn how to be deaf to the shitty opinions of shitty people; to accept all those uncomfortable things so you can be stronger and more resilient next time. 

He knows that for you to be better, you needed to experience pain. To feel it deep into your bones so you'll know that the only way out is through toughening up your mind and moving onwards without caring about the audience's opinions.

"You don't have to be alone," he whispered, afraid to cut into the quiet tension in the room, as his hands rested softly on your shoulder, squeezing it a tad bit. 

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, paused, and let it out slowly. "That's it.. you're doing a great job.."

As he spoke those words, he carefully maneuvered his body to lie down next to you, gently curling his arms around and resting his hands above yours.

He kissed your neck, his body heat gradually comforting you and warming up your cold insides and physical being.

"It's okay.. i'm here.."

As if your mind and heart was waiting for those words to come out of him, you sobbed.


End file.
